


A Hostile Intervention

by BeanieBaby



Series: Senator Obi-Wan AU [10]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, Fluff and Crack, Gen, They cook him dinner, there's violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:27:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27482704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeanieBaby/pseuds/BeanieBaby
Summary: “Is it poisoned?” Fox asked.Wolffe folded his arms over his apron, obscuring the wordBossand only leavingBitchon proud display.“No.”“Laxatives? Sleeping pills?”
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-1010 | Fox & Obi-Wan Kenobi, CC-2224 | Cody & CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Senator Obi-Wan AU [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1785886
Comments: 50
Kudos: 479





	A Hostile Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> Here's another crack snippet in this verse! I can't believe how much I enjoy writing Fox haha. 
> 
> Fit somewhere in the non-existent timeline.

“You said there was an emergency!” He snapped, still panting from the race up to Kenobi’s penthouse.

Wolffe, who was in the middle of licking something off of his wrist, paused and raised an eyebrow. “This _is_ an emergency.”

Fox’s hand immediately went to his gun holster, “where?”

“Don’t be mad,” Obi-Wan quickly rounded the kitchen island, his fingers curling their way around Fox’s wrists, “but I was told that you haven’t eaten properly in days.”

“Sir, I’m really not hungry,” He sighed, reluctantly relaxing his stance and letting the man drag him closer to where both Wolffe and Cody were lounging by the stovetops. Wolffe was wearing a hideous neon pink apron with the glittery words _Boss Bitch_ over his gray and white armor, and Cody had on a matching feather boa that Fox was pretty sure was a fire hazard just waiting to be ignited.

“We're worried about your stress levels, dear,” Kenobi nagged on, “have you slept more than five hours this week?”

“Yes,” He lied, catching the senator’s sneaky fingers when they tried to unseal his bucket, “I wouldn’t be so worried about everything imploding if everyone did their damned jobs and stopped mucking about like _useless idiots.”_

Something beeped in the lounge. It sounded weirdly familiar. Fox whirled around just in time to see Cody’s medic pop out from behind a large sofa, his eyes huge as he held up the stupid blood pressure detector.

“Whoa,” Butcher breathed in awe, “your BP’s through the roof even from across the room, sir.”

“If we somehow find a way to harness Fox’s rage, we’d have an endless supply of energy to power all the GAR's ships for the rest of eternity,” Cody pondered the idea as he handed Wolffe a clean towel.

“No, we should concentrate it into a beam and use it to wipe out the Separatists in one furious blast,” Wolffe countered, smirking. Fox gritted his teeth behind his helmet. Butcher’s annoying machine started beeping again.

“Please sit down before you blow an artery,” Obi-Wan sighed, tugging him down onto a bar stool.

“How long are you staying,” Fox growled at Cody. Whenever the 212th lingered more than a few days on Coruscant, something chaotic and weird inevitably followed. The same went with the 501st. The Coruscant Guards were starting to refer to High General Qui-Gon Jinn and that blasted Anakin Skywalker as the Cursed Duo. Last Fox heard, they’d added a tiny feral Togruta girl to the unhinged lineage.

“Month and a half,” Cody grunted, accepting the fork of meat Wolffe shoved into his mouth. “Needs more salt.”

“You’re on shore leave?” Fox asked. He couldn’t recall seeing the 212th, or Ghost Company for that matter, on the small list of military units approved for leave.

“Oh no, we’re staying a bit longer than that,” Butcher explained as he wandered over, “our general’s taken a temporary gig as a guest lecturer at Coruscant University for the fall semester.”

"He can do that in the middle of an active war?”

“Part of the agreement to come back and serve as Jedi General to the 212th,” Cody explained, “I had to make some concessions to lure him out of that swamp in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere. Most of my battalion will still be on active duty, just temporarily assigned to other troops while Qui-Gon does his thing.”

“And you two?”

“Jinn gave everyone a choice on where we wanted to be assigned, I asked for a temporary transfer to the Guard Medics,” The young trooper creeped into Fox’s personal space with an evil grin, “can't wait to get my hands inside of you, sir.”

Fox side-eyed him. “I’m going to schedule you for a psych evaluation.”

“Oh, come on!”

 _Cody and his men were definitely a bad influence on the once innocent medic,_ he thought as he leaned away from the pouting kid. Fox put an end to another one of Kenobi’s attempts to remove his helmet and kept a loose grip around the man’s wrists just in case he tried for a third time.

“He’s got a research paper due for publication in two weeks,” Cody continued, accepting a mixing bowl from Wolffe, “just finalizing some formatting details with High General Mundi.”

“Wait, what?” 

“They’re co-authors,” His batch brother shrugged, “Jinn’s collaborated on a few pieces with various Jedi generals. Moonk’s general helped us get animal samples from an ocean on CRF-94 last time. It’s a small moon with very cool fish starting to migrate onto land.” Cody glanced at Wolffe, “I think your general’s on the peer review committee for a few of the journals.”

Wolffe blinked. “Is that what he’s been reading on all of our missions?”

“Probably.”

“Well, it’s been fun seeing you ugly bastards, but I have to get back to my shift,” Fox released Obi-Wan’s hands and rose to his feet. “Senator, please refrain from filing another false report, or I will be issuing a fin—”

A pink blur flickered into his line of vision and Fox staggered back as Cody looped the feather boa around his neck like he was lassoing an angry bull. The world tilted on its axis, Kenobi’s shocked expression replaced by the ceiling as Cody flipped Fox over his shoulder and onto the floor. His helmet rolled off. Baring his teeth, Fox went for his blasters but Wolffe’s boot came down on his right wrist, pinning it above his head. Cody grabbed his jaw.

“Boys, there’s really no need for violence,” Obi-Wan said, frowning worriedly behind Cody’s left shoulder.

“Sometimes violence is the only way to knock some sense into him,” Cody muttered, “Wolffe, the senator, and I spent three hours making you dinner, so you can either get up and eat it yourself, or we can tape you to a chair and force-feed you, Fox’ika. Your choice.”

He tried bucking Cody off, but it was next to impossible without seriously straining some part of his anatomy, so Fox slumped back down onto the soft carpet and admitted the stinging defeat. His asshole brothers dragged him up and sat Fox back down on the stool sans his helmet. Obi-Wan bit his lip, expression still concerned.

“I’m fine, sir,” He reassured the man and carded a hand through his tangled hair, “but I am going to arrest those two for assaulting a police officer.”

“Shut up and eat,” Wolffe, unimpressed by the empty threat, slid the plate piled high with food over to Fox. It sloshed over the side and doused his right vambrace with sauce. He grimaced down at the stuff. It smelled infuriatingly good.

“Is it poisoned?”

Wolffe folded his arms over his apron, obscuring the word _Boss_ and only leaving _Bitch_ on proud display. “No.”

“Laxatives? Sleeping pills?”

“No, vod’ika,” Wolffe was definitely getting offended now. The leader of the Wolf Pack grabbed the spoon sticking out of the plate, scooped up a generous portion, and wedged it into his own mouth. “See?”

“Why?” Fox asked suspiciously as he chewed.

“What do you mean why?” Cody asked, dropping his elbow onto Fox’s shoulder in that super annoying way he used to as a child on Kamino.

“Why are you guys making me dinner?”

“We can’t do something nice for you without suffering through an interrogation?” Wolffe snapped, rolling his eyes. He stabbed the spoon back into the food and lifted it up to Fox’s scrunched face, “Eat.”

“It’s been in your mouth,” He whined, shrugging Cody off and pulling away.

“Seriously? I fed you _like a baby bird_ when we were young," Wolffe exclaimed, outraged. “Rocked you to sleep in my loving bosom every night.”

Fox rolled his eyes, “No you didn’t. Stop spreading lies.”

“I practically _birthed_ you,” Wolffe’s chest swelled indignantly, "What happened to my sweet baby brother?”

Butcher snorted. Fox’s face spasmed. “I was never sweet, you take that back.”

“Wow, this is amazing, Commander Wolffe,” Kenobi exclaimed after taking a curious bite. “Can I get the recipe?”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe sniffed haughtily and aimed a baleful glare at Fox, “It’s nice to be appreciated for once.”

“You have to try it,” Obi-Wan gushed.

“There are literally three full drawers of eating utensils, why are we all using the same spoon?” Fox complained, catching Kenobi’s wrist again before the food could meet his lips. Cody sighed and went to retrieve clean utensils for everyone while Wolffe laid out a few more servings.

 _“Ugh,”_ Fox muttered when he nibbled cautiously at the mystery meat. As he suspected, it tasted disgustingly incredible. Stupid Wolffe and his annoying culinary skills.

“You don’t like it?” Obi-Wan asked, peering at his scowling face.

“That’s Fox speech for _‘it’s delicious, but I won't say so because it will get to Wolffe’s big fat head,’”_ Wolffe explained sarcastically from the kitchen sink. He dried his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder, meandered over, and pressed a fond kiss on top of Fox’s head, “you’re welcome, by the way.”

He shoved Wolffe away but kept eating.


End file.
